


built a wreck out of me

by lizee



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 14:49:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7896856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizee/pseuds/lizee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sharing a bed with Zayn used to be the easiest thing for Liam - he always felt safe around him, warm, protected.  But at the moment, Liam kind of really wants to die.  It's almost 3 in the morning and Zayn's making these little noises and rutting against Liam's back side.</p><p>. . .</p><p>Or, Liam and Zayn share a bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	built a wreck out of me

**Author's Note:**

> i just...........really wanted to write curly haired Liam and older, pining Zayn. the c'mon c'mon part was, of course, necessary.
> 
> this is pure, pure porn.

Liam's skin is buzzing, the way it always does before a show.  He's got this untamed nervous energy that shoots like lightning through his veins, bouncing his leg anxiously as he waits for the rest of the boys to meet him backstage.  They're due in twenty minutes, but Liam knows it'll feel like an hour.  

"You alright?" he hears Zayn ask from behind him, his front facing their entrance to the stage.  He can hear the uproar outside - a chant for their name.   _One Direction_.  And it's crazy, really, how quickly they've gained momentum, the fans, the popularity.  He still remembers walking home with a quivering lip and shaking hands after not making it through the Judge's Houses.  

"I'm fine, yeah," Liam replies distantly, eyes still trained on the stage entrance.  He feels a warm hand ruffle his shaggy curls, tugging on it lightly just the way Liam likes.  Knowing all-too-well who it is, he turns back and smiles, meeting Zayn's eyes.

"We're gonna smash it, tonight," Zayn says, doing that stupid little grin he does where he pushes his tongue behind his teeth.  Liam's cheeks heat up, probably from the nerves.  Definitely from the nerves, and definitely  _not_ from Zayn's proximity or the intensity of his gaze.

"And if we don't?"  He knows Zayn hates it when he says negative things like that, knows  _Louis_ hates it even more ("We've finally fuckin' made it, Leemo, and you're already thinking of our downfall.") but sometimes he just needs the reassurance because he anticipates Zayn's answer - it's always the same.

"I'll be right there next to you, Liam.  The whole way through."  And Liam's heart maybe skips a beat - from the adrenaline, of course.  He breaks out into a smile as Zayn claps him on the back, following Harry on stage.

The roar of the crowd gets louder as they each pop up one by one and Liam starts feeling that anxiousness, the fear.  He's gotten booed before; pop music was never all too popular.  He looks to Zayn on instinct, craving his touch again, the way he can make all the bad things go away.  And it's like Zayn has a sense for it, the way how when he looks at Zayn, Zayn's right there looking back.  He mouths a quick  _you'll be great, babe_ before kicking into the first song.  Liam swears Zayn's magic or something, because he feels all his worries slip away.

. . .

"I'm  _bored_ ," Louis whines, flopping onto the Harry's hotel bed dramatically.  Harry makes a noise of discomfort as Louis continues to make this horrid whining noise, and Niall cackles from the other bed.

"You know it's for our own safety," Liam comments, peering out the window to see if the massive crowd had dissipated yet.  The moment he does he hears intense screams and cries and immediately, he closes the curtain.  

He's not looking at Louis but he can hear the way he snorts and the mutter of "of course Daddy Direction would say that".

"Oi, shut it, Lou," Zayn scolds with a scowl.  And Liam knows it's all a joke, how when they first met he and Louis didn't get on at all.  He was too uptight, too determined on making sure his dreams didn't get crushed again.  Yet Zayn's comments always seem to alleviate the stress, the fear, the  _negatives_.  He sometimes forgets that this is a job, that they're not just a bunch of lads hanging out.

"It's not too bad, boys.  We've got each other," Harry says in that odd, slow, yet slightly endearing deep voice of his.  "Now c'mon, group cuddle."  He spreads his arms wide open with a playful smile and wiggles his eyebrows.  

"Oh alright, y' little shit," Niall complies, jumping from his bed and landing on Harry's with a  _thump!_  Louis grumbles, now being smushed onto a bed with Harry  _and_ Niall.  Zayn rolls his eyes with a quick "can't believe I gave up uni for  _this_ " but still nudges his way into the cuddle pile.

They all look expectantly at Liam, who's still standing at the foot of the bed.  He feels something tug in his heart, the way that they're a mess of limbs yet still manage to fit together like puzzle pieces.  They form the perfect picture - a harmonious chaos.  There's a smile pushing at his cheeks and he shakes his head in disbelief, that he's so lucky.

"Don't get soppy on us now,  _Leeyum_ ," Zayn teases, seeing the look on Liam's face.  He stretches out is arm, beckoning Liam to come in, and Liam shrugs into the side hug.  He nuzzles against Zayn's side and it feels complete.

. . .

"Are y' two sure you don't want to come along with us?" Harry asks, glancing between Zayn and Liam, who are against the headboard of the bed, Liam curled into Zayn's side as they watch some Marvel movie..

"Y'know I'm not much of a partier," Liam replies, embarrassed to even admit it.  The boys had helped him relax a bit more, live a little, but he'd never be able to complete the full transition.  Partying was still a bit of an uncomfortable concept for him, not really enjoying the loudness or the idea of random strangers grinding against him.  Louis pops up from behind Harry with a quirked eyebrow.

"What about you, Zed?"  Liam can't quite place what Louis's insinuating, unable to label his expression.  He feels as if he's missing something since he hears Zayn's sharp intake of breath.

"I'm  _good_ , Lou," Zayn replies, a slight bite in his words.  Louis only snickers and shakes his head, muttering something Liam can't quite catch.  Harry raises his eyebrows, seeming to understand the situation, which frustrates Liam even more.  

"Alright," Harry says carefully, feeling the tension in the room.  "I'm just...we're just -"  He closes the door and their footsteps fade.  

"Back to the movie, babe?" Zayn asks, changing the subject.  Liam revels a bit under the pet name; it makes him feel special, despite the fact that Zayn practically calls  _everyone_ babe, but there's a certain way that he says it to Liam that's different.  He chews on his lip, unsure whether he should ask about what just happened.  He doesn't want to appear daft; he knows he's never been the  _brightest_ in the group, making average or above average marks on his GCSEs.  "Babe?"

"What happened?  With Louis just now?"  He quirks his head to the side to see Zayn's facial expression a bit more and he swears he sees something akin to panic, which is odd compared to Zayn's usual cool exterior.

"Nothing," he says quickly, and Liam's not sure but he swears there's a faint blush over his cheeks.  Maybe it's a trick of the light.  Liam's eyebrows furrow and his lips part as if he's going to say more, but decides against it.  

"Sorry."

"What? No, no, Li don't apologize.  I-I didn't mean it like that.  Just a little inside joke, you know?"  He can tell Zayn's lying and he's not sure what makes him feel this hurt inside - the fact that Zayn's lying to him or that Zayn's got an inside joke with Louis.  The latter is stupid, really, since they're all  _mates_ , but there's unexplainable sink in his gut when he dwells on it.  Liam likes to think that Zayn and him are the best mates of the group - Louis and Harry had always been close to each other and Niall was always the social butterfly of the group, never getting too close to one person.  Naturally, Zayn and Liam gravitated to each other.  It's not  _jealousy_ , that'd be ridiculous because they're all friends.  And Zayn's not solely his.  Absolutely ridiculous.

"Hey, c'mon, come back to me," Zayn says, voice soft and quiet.  It's the way it always gets whenever he and Liam have those serious conversations, talking about things he knows Zayn will just  _get_.  He play with the ends of Liam's curls, moving to the nape of his neck and rubbing it a bit there.  "Alright?"

Liam nods, giving Zayn a weak smile.  "Movie, now?"

"Anythin' for you."

. . .

_"That's it, swallow around me, babe," the voice groans from above him.  His mouth is stuffed with cock, eyes closed as he eagerly bobs up and down.  He likes the way it fills his throat, the heady taste on his tongue, the way it hits the back of his throat so nicely._

_"Good boy, Liam, such a good boy."  The words make him suck harder, faster, tongue flicking at the slit.  "Fuck, yeah, that's it."  He desperately wants to palm himself, give some sort of release, but he has the feeling that he wouldn't like it.  He needs permission first._

_"Open your eyes for me, baby boy."  He moans at the name, whining around the cock in his mouth, dribbling spit as he does so.  He pulls off, kissing the head and opening his eyes to see_ Zayn _, with hooded lids and pupils blown.  He bites on his lip and groans, "Liam" and just like that, Liam comes._

. . .

Liam wakes, at first, unsure of his location.  He feels a warm body encompassed around him, an arm wrapped around his shoulder.  His pillow isn't much of pillow, more of a shoulder. 

"Aw, look, the princess is awake," the familiar voice cooes.  Liam tries to blink the sleep away from his eyes and he feels the body next to him shift.  His face is hot because the dream was so vivid and _surely_ the figure wasn't Zayn.  He's just been really horny; that's how it always is on tour.  He's never been that comfortable wanking on the bus when the boys are around.  It's just his sex drive, obviously.  Only then does he realize that he's cuddled close to Zayn.  He shouldn't be surprised by this at all - this has happened over a million times over the course of the years they've known each other.  What makes this time different is that he's  _pretty_ sure he's got a stiffy.  

He jerks away from Zayn's touch, grasping at the comforter of the bed to cover his hopefully unnoticeable hard-on.  And he's pretty sure that's not supposed to happen either. You're not supposed to cuddle with your best friend and wake up with a  _boner_.

"Leave 'em alone, Lou, can't you see they were havin' a good time?" Harry jokes, smirking at the two.  Zayn just makes a noise of dissatisfaction and snuggles closer Liam; at least, he attempts to until he realizes Liam isn't that close anymore.  He opens one eye to try and find Liam again, but Liam's sitting straight, back against the headboard.  

"I, um, yeah.  Just.  Bad dream."  A lie.

Louis raises his eyebrows, mouth quirked upwards.  "Oh, really, Liam?  Because your bon-"

"Shut up, Louis," Liam hisses, hands tightening around the sheets of the bed, praying his dick to just soften already.  Louis just smiles cheekily at him and nudges Harry, signaling them to leave.

Zayn's raises his head to watch them go, hair adorably messy that makes him look even more angelic than usual.  Liam can't help but stare at him - the way his disheveled quiff frames his face perfectly, sleepy eyes still adjusting to the light, the downwards frown.   _Fuck_ , he thinks.

"Everythin' alright, babe?" Zayn asks, voice scratchy from sleep, but Liam can't help but think about how Zayn had groaned his name, how deep his voice was.  He's heard Zayn wank off,  _knows_ he's not quiet.  He's a litany of whines and high-pitched moans, and Liam's still embarrassed to think about that time that he walked in on Zayn, his cock curved up to his belly, messy with pre-come.  

"Yeah," he replies, an attempt to reach something similar to nonchalance, but utterly failing.  He clears his throat.  "I'm just gonna...yeah."  He runs to the bathroom, face burning because he's not supposed to think about Zayn this way.  One Direction was always described as a band of  _brothers_.  Liam may only have sisters, but he's confident that brothers aren't supposed to think about each other like that.

He slams the door, locking the bathroom and shoving his hands into his shorts, biting back a moan at the relief.  He's just getting it out of his system, that's all.  His mind wanders, trying to think of everything else but Zayn.  Yet everything always strays back to him, of course.  He imagines Zayn's hands all over him, the way his lips would feel against his lips, how gentle or rough he'd be.  He's sure Zayn would be delicate with him, the way he always is, but Liam thinks he might want something harder.  His hand quickens on his cock, thinking of all those times he's heard Zayn wank off in the bathroom, the way he'd always let out breathy little gasps and choked off moans, how he sighed heavily whenever he came.  He imagines Zayn's scratchy, deep voice whispering dirty things to him, replaying his dream over in his head.  He had  _moaned_ Liam's name and Liam wants to hear it again and again and again.  

"Fuck," Liam hisses.  He's so close, head knocking against the door as he throws it back and bites on his lower lip until he's sure it draws blood.  He tries to remember every detail of the dream, the way Zayn's voice was silky and smooth with how he said the word "baby boy".  And that's all it takes for Liam, come spurting out in streaks, Zayn's name on his lips.  

. . .

He thought he needed to get Zayn out of his system, thought that  _jerking off while thinking of your best friend_ would be enough.  It isn't.

He avoids Zayn, unable to look him in the eye without getting red in the face.

 

. . .

"What's goin' on with you, Payno?" Louis asks, cornering him backstage after the concert.  The concert was off; he had avoided Zayn all night, not even doing their usual playful banter on stage.  Zayn stormed off to his room after the concert, not bothering to even ask Liam if he wanted to catch a ride with him back to the hotel.

"Nothing, really. I think.  I'm pretty sure.  I'm actually buzzed - real buzzed, Tommo," he lies, words spilling out of his mouth.  

"Fuck off, Liam, I'm serious."  

"In a...hypothetical situation, what would you do if you liked someone you worked with?" Liam starts.  "Hypothetical, of course."  Louis stiffens, his normal jest now gone.

"Why do you ask?"  He narrows his eyes at Liam, and Liam's not sure but he think he can see the slightest hint of worry in his eyes.

"No reason," Liam says quickly. There's an obvious tension - they're both hiding something. 

"Then, hypothetically, I think I'd try to date them, as long as it didn't interfere with work.  Which it does -" Louis catches himself.  "Which it  _would_ not."  They're both looking at each other warily, choosing their words carefully.  Neither say a word.  Louis opens and closes his mouth, as if he's deciding whether or not to say something else.

"I'm...gonna go," Louis says quickly, leaving Liam even more confused than he started.

. . .

Liam finds himself with his hand hovered over his back pocket for the hotel key card.  He lets out a shaky breath and enters the room.  He makes eye contact with Zayn and suddenly he doesn't remember his vocabulary.  His brain's turned to mush.  The world is against Liam. 

He thinks it must be because Zayn's shirtless, a towel wrapped around his waist, hair still damp from his shower and drops of water that make his hair glisten.

Zayn raises his eyebrow, a silent question.  He's tightlipped, the way he gets whenever he's clearly upset about something.

"I'm sorry, Zayn," Liam apologizes.  "It's just been a really confusing week for me and I didn't mean to avoid you.  I'm so sorry, Zaynie."  And really it's unfair, how Zayn can look so, so pretty when he's mad.  It's against the laws of nature - no mortal should have the power to look good when they're angry.  The anger, however, dissipates into something more of relief.  He walks forward and hugs Liam, arms wrapped tight around his neck.

Liam, on the other hand, is trying to remember how to breathe because Zayn's still  _half naked_ and sure, he's seen Zayn half naked plenty of times, but that was before he had a wet dream about him.  "Just make sure to tell me things, alright?  You can tell me anything." 

 _Not anything_ , Liam thinks to himself.  He pushes that thought aside.  "I missed you."

"Missed you, too," Zayn says with a small smile.  He runs his hands through his hair, pushing it back into a faux quiff.  "Now, movie time?"

"Movie time," Liam replies, hopping on to the bed and patting the space next to him.

. . .

Sharing a bed with Zayn used to be the easiest thing for Liam - he always felt safe around him, warm, protected.  But at the moment, Liam kind of really wants to die.  It's almost 3 in the morning and Zayn's making these little  _noises_ and rutting against Liam's back side.  They usually spoon together, always waking up with awkward morning wood that they just brush off with a few laughs before tossing off in the bathroom with a blush on their faces.

This is different, though.  Zayn keeps making these breathy moans that Liam's getting hard over and it's embarrassing.  He feels the stiffness of Zayn's cock hump against him and he has to bite his lip to keep himself from moaning.  Zayn's nose is pressed against his neck and he feels the brush of Zayn's lips against him, these high-pitched whines he keeps making and Liam so desperately wants to reach down and touch himself.

And Liam's trying to convince himself to sleep it off, to just ignore it until Zayn stops; that is, until Liam  _swears_ he hears Zayn gasp a strained, " _Liam_ " as he thrusts his hips forward.

That's Liam's breaking point.  "Zayn," he says, trying to hide the quiver in his voice.  "Zayn, wake up."

He jerks awake and Zayn immediately shifts away from him.  "Oh my god, I'm so sorry.  Fuck, Liam, that's - oh, god, sorry I'm just -"

"No, it's fine.  It happens to all of us," Liam coughs awkwardly.  There's an awkward silence, and Zayn's still  _obviously_ turned on, his breath heavy and labored and voice still scratchy and rough.

"...You don't mind if I take care of m'self, right?"

"Right here?" Liam squeaks out because he doesn't know if he can handle that.  

"'s not like you haven't heard me before, right?" Zayn asks, there's no hint of shame in it.  In fact, it almost sounds like he's proud of it, the clear smirk in his voice.

"I, um, okay."  It's still dark in the room so he can only make out the faint outline of Zayn's figure.  He watches as Zayn throws his head back on his pillow and shuck away the sheets, moving his hand down to his boxers and cupping himself.  He lets out a faint groan and Liam can barely see him shut his eyes.

"You can watch if y' like," Zayn whispers, "It gets me off, knowin' someone's watchin' me."  Liam's breathing heavily and he wants to pry his eyes away but there's blood pounding in his ears and Zayn looks so fucking angelic, the way his muscles twitch as he teases himself through his boxers.  He's lightly tracing the outline of his cock and Liam can see it pushing against the cotton, accentuating just how  _hard_ he is.

"Liam," Zayn groans.  "Say something, fuck, babe, you're okay with this, yeah?"  Liam gulps, his mouth feeling suddenly dry.

"Yeah," Liam replies, voice gone deep.  "'s fine, yeah."  Zayn moans at the sound of Liam's voice, yanking down his boxers to properly wrap a hand around himself.  And it's the fucking  _noises_ that are getting to Liam - the slick slide of his hand on his cock.  He's playing with the crown of his dick, tugging loosely and writhing on the sheets to work himself up.

"Tell me what y' thinking, Li.  Too fucking quiet,  _shit_ ," Zayn hisses, biting his lip and thrusting his hips off the mattress.  

"You're so...pretty."  It's stupid but it's the only word that Liam feels is appropriate.  He can't tear his eyes away from Zayn's cock, how it's perfectly shaven and cut, how he can make out the glisten of pre-come from the dim, dark lighting of the room, how it curves upward, hard and thick.

"Fuck, Liam, c'mon, take y' cock out f' me," Zayn begs, hand quickening on his length.  "Are you hard for me?  You hard from watchin' me,  _Leeyum_ _?_ "

"Yes," Liam breathes out earnestly, his cock pushing uncomfortably against his boxers.  Zayn lets out a whine from that, tugging on his cock quicker and quicker.

"C'mon, Liam, show me how hard you are."  And Liam doesn't know why but he lets out a whimper and pushes down his boxers, revealing his hard, thick cock.  It curves upward against his stomach and he looks at Zayn.  He can just barely see the hungry way Zayn looks at his cock, mouth dropping open and letting out another croon.

"Shit, y' so wet, Li, and you haven't even touched y'self yet.  Go on, show me how y' play with y'self, please,  _fuck_." Zayn's accent gets thicker, voice deep as he gets more turned on.

"Zayn," Liam says, and it comes off as a plead because he's so hard.

"You want permission?  You like being told what t' do, babe?  Touch yourself for me, baby.  Put on a show f' me," Zayn murmurs, using all his restraint to stop jerking himself and give all his attention to Liam.  He feels his face flush as Zayn's gaze burns right into him.

"W..what?" Liam asks, unsure of himself, teeth digging into his bottom lip.  He feels exposed, the air cool against his burning skin.

"You heard me," Zayn says, the smirk apparent in his voice.  His voice drops even lower.  "Show me how y' touch yourself, Liam."  Liam closes his eyes and whines at that, hand trailing down to the base of his cock and wrapping his hand around it.  "That's it, baby, just like that."  He begins to slowly pump himself, blurting precome because he's so fucking turned on, the way Zayn looks at him.

"Oh, baby, so, so good for me, aren't you?  You love the attention, don't you?  Y' love havin' someone watch you, huh?"  Liam can't respond, doesn't want to.  He's scared of what he might say.  "Tell me, Liam."

"Yeah, yes, Zee, please," Liam chokes out.  He plays with the foreskin of his cock, revealing the built up wetness there and he's not sure who moans - him or Zayn.  

"You close yet, Li?" Zayn asks, watching as Liam's hand becomes a blur over his cock, toes curling as he approaches his orgasm.  He tugs at his cock, writhing against the sheets and he's never felt this turned on in his life.  He keeps letting out these groans and heavy breaths because he's so close, and Zayn's right there whispering these dirty words and encouragements.

"Yeah, fuck."  Suddenly, there's a hand batting his away and his thick, calloused fingers are replaced with slimmer, more precise ones.  It takes him a bit to realize it's Zayn's hand.  "What are you -"

"Shhh, baby, focus on me.  Open y' eyes and focus on me."  Liam wills his eyelids to open, trying to keep them from closing from the pleasure.  He opens his eyes to see Zayn staring at him intensely, eyelids hooded but mouth dropped open.  He's reaching over to pump Liam quickly.  "That's it, baby boy, that's it."

He groans at the name; hearing the words out loud are something so, so different from his dream.  "Knew you'd get off on that.  You're so kinky, aren't you, Li?  I'm so lucky to be the only one who gets to see y' like this, huh?"  LIam tries to form words but he only mewls because Zayn's switched to loose strokes, so Liam's forced to fuck up into his hand.

"Only one," Liam breathes out, mind hazy from the pleasure, "only one."

"You wanna come for me, baby?"

"Zed, Zee, please,"

"C'mon, then, c'mon," Zayn mumbles, "come for me."  And Liam feels like his orgasm is ripped out of him, coming in long, hot streaks across Zayn's fist and by pure impulse, his hand reaches out to find Zayn's cock.  It feels odd in his hand, the way it's slimmer, but longer than his, smoother.  He begins to pump it furiously, in time with Zayn's strokes, who is taken by surprise.   Zayn comes with a cry, not too long after Liam, coating Liam's fingers with his come.

"Shit, Zayn," Liam sighs out, chest heaving.  

"Don't think about it," Zayn whispers, "just sleep."

. . .

He wakes up the next morning to an empty bed with a cold pillow. 

. . .

"Are you okay, Liam?" Harry asks, eyebrows furrowed.  "You look sickly, mate."

"ImayormaynothavejerkedZaynofflastnight." 

"Sorry?"

"I jerked Zayn off last night," Liam confesses, screwing his eyes shut because he really, really doesn't want to see Harry's face.

But, his eyes open when he hears Harry call, "Lou! You owe me twenty quid!"

"W-what?"

Harry scoffs and rolls his eyes.  "Nice to know that everyone in this band isn't straight, well, besides Niall, maybe.  But even there I'm not sure.   _Liam_ , don't you think it's a tad bit obvious?  The lad's got heart eyes for you every time you walk into the bloody room, always defending you, never leaving your side.  I reckon he's wanted this for a while now."

Liam's mind goes blank because looking back on it now, it is a bit obvious.  But then he thinks back to another thing Harry said.  "What do you mean no one in this band is straight?"

Harry chuckles, shaking his head.  "Let's just say you two aren't the only ones shagging about.  Good luck with it all, Liam."  He winks and leaves Liam to his thoughts.

. . .

He walks into the hotel room later that night and Zayn's pacing around the room.  "Zayn," he starts.

"No, Liam, let me," Zayn pleads, voice wobbly.  "I'm really sorry about last night, I don't know what I was thinking.  I crossed a line entirely, mate, and I'm so -"

"Piss off, Zed," Liam laughs, punching Zayn's shoulder lightly.  "We're fine, alright?"

Zayn blinks.  "We are?"

"Yeah.  Now c'mere, I've got a fight to pick with you because it seems like  _someone's_ been hiding something from me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Zayn lies.

"You're a shit liar," Liam teases with a grin.  "Fine, I'll say it first.  I've got the biggest crush on you, Zayn Malik.  Now it's your turn."  Zayn's cheeks flush and Liam can't help but be endeared by how cute he gets when he's flustered.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he repeats.  

"Shut up and kiss me already, you idiot.  What happened to the dirty talking prick last night?" he taunts, taking a step closer to Zayn and grinning, their faces so close that their breaths mix.  He wraps his arms around Zayn's neck, nose brushing his.

Zayn smiles, giving up the act.  "Alright, c'mon, then, c'mon," he whispers out before tilting his face upwards and crashing his lips to Liam's.  The kiss is soft and sweet, gentle.  Zayn tastes like cigarettes and caramel and Liam doesn't mind, not at all.  He nibbles at Zayn's lower lip before licking against the seam of his lips, asking for permission.  

Zayn pulls back with a giggle.  "I reckon we're doing this backwards, handjobs first, kissing second."

"Well, then, Zayn Malik, will you do me the great honor of going out on a date with me tomorrow night?  Since you're so fixated on doing this properly, even  _if_ you were the one who initiated the handjob last night."

"'Just shut up and kiss me already, you idiot,'" Zayn says, imitating Liam's voice horridly.  And Liam obliges happily, pushing his lips against Zayn again, obsessed with the way they fit so perfectly.  How they fit just right.


End file.
